


Geralt and the Minotaur p4

by thecomfortofoldstorries



Series: Geralt and the Minotaur [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Ancient Greece, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Coitus Interruptus, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Human Sacrifice, M/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecomfortofoldstorries/pseuds/thecomfortofoldstorries
Summary: Jask and Geralt get *close* and Triss is... well... very Game Triss (derogatory).
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geralt and the Minotaur [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119917
Kudos: 22





	Geralt and the Minotaur p4

Geralt spent the rest of the morning pacing along the front of their cell. Any sound from out their window made him jump, which only made him more anxious when the crowd from the docks gathered just around the corner to hear the king speak. They had developed an entire holiday around the sacrifice, not just a party, so it seemed. 

Jaskier watched him, silent but for humming or singing softly to himself as he laid on the cot. He eventually convinced Geralt to sit and rest. He gave protests of being ready and alert but sat next to him anyway. Jaskier rolled to face him, curling around his waist but not quite touching. He placed a hand on Geralt’s knee to steady it’s bouncing and the prince eyed him warily. 

“They gave us food, we probably won’t be moved until the morning. You need to relax.” Jaskier smiled and Geralt pursed his lips. 

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?" 

"No idea." 

"Thanks.”

Jaskier patted his knee, rather condescendingly, “Any time." 

He did eventually manage to relax, Jaskier asked all sorts of questions about his last adventures. Did he really kill Procrustes on his own bed? Why the hell didn’t he just sail to Athens? What weapons was he trained in? By the time someone tossed a loaf of bread and dried meat through the bars for dinner he was feeling rather confident. He wondered if Jaskier had meant to remind him of his past victories or if he was simply curious. 

They sat on the cot and traded jokes as they ate, their laughter echoing off the three stone walls of their prison was terribly dissonant with the murmurs from other cells. Their carefree conversation carried on as snores drifted through the prison. Geralt thought at some point that he should try to sleep but Jaskier’s laugh was absolutely intoxicating. 

"If we are to die tomorrow, which I doubt will happen, but if, at least we’ll have had a good time before.” Geralt mused, leaning his elbows on his knees, picking at the chipping wood of the water pitcher. 

“Mmm, yes. Here’s to dying sober virgins.” Jaskier laughed, elbowing Geralt and drawing out a reluctant laugh, “…well technically " 

"Technically?” Geralt could feel his face turning red, just as it always did when sex was brought up.

“Well yeah, I can’t imagine blowjobs count, do they? So technically…' 

Geralt nodded, "Yeah, heard of those." 

” _Heard of those_ , my prince you play the blushing virgin well.“ Jaskier snickered. 

"I _am_ the blushing virgin. It’s rather annoying actually.” Geralt admitted, his voice soft as he stared at the floor.

Jaskier laughed, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs over the bed before he noticed Geralt’s expression, “Oh, you’re not kidding?" 

Geralt blushed deeper still, "No… I just… I don’t know? Never had the opportunity? Or if I did it was uncomfortable?" 

"I’m sorry. I just-” Jaskier re-situated himself so he was sitting on his heels facing Geralt as he babbled, “-well, you’re gorgeous and I heard of people watching you train so I figured… But it’s really not a big deal. It’s fun, but not a big deal." 

Geralt pursed his lips and nodded, not sure what to say, it wasn’t as if he had anything to add to the conversation. 

"You do…? You know? Take matters into your own hands?” Jaskier almost looked worried for him, eyebrows drawn together as if he was asking whether or not Geralt had eaten. 

“I- well- sure? It’s just ah, frowned upon for a prince…” Geralt chewed at his bottom lip, only glancing at Jaskier. 

“Oh they’re full of shit.” Jaskier said dismissively, “If the gods do it why can’t we?" 

Geralt raised an eyebrow, "Who said the gods do?" 

"Oh smarter people than I,” he grinned, “Oracles, priests, priestesses, heard a healer say it once. Not a doctor pretending to have power either. A divine healer told my friend the gods jacked off and he needed to too lest he, oh what were the words? ‘Lose his balls like rotten olives left on the branch.’ I think. But it’s much better when someone else does it." 

Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest, an echo of the pulse pounded through the backs of his knees and his hips, "Reminiscing in your final hours?” he tried to make it humorous, but he was suddenly so nervous he barely got the words out. 

Jaskier leaned forward, catching the prince’s chin and forcing him to meet his gaze, “No, Geralt. I’m trying to be subtle but you’re not picking up on it." 

The surprise must have been painfully clear on his face because Jaskier laughed ever so quietly, leaning closer still, "Can I kiss you?”

Geralt didn’t think he could force any words out so he simply nodded, glancing at Jaskier’s lips and doing his best to keep his breathing even. A soft smile stretched the brunet’s lips a little thinner as he leaned closer and tilted his head, tugging at Geralt’s chin to do the same. When their lips finally touched Geralt felt his insides melt. His eyes fell closed of their own accord and he instinctively reached out to rest his hand on Jaskier’s waist. Every last bit of tension left his body and he couldn’t have focused on anything but the lips on his if he tried. Jaskier’s hand moved to cradle his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheek in time with the dance of his lips. 

When Jaskier pulled away, for it surely wasn’t Geralt, the prince hummed, eyes unwillingly opening to see that, thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it. Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed, only making his eyes look bluer against the pink, the genuine smile he wore was blinding in a way that would have killed a true mortal. 

“That was nice…” Geralt whispered, smiling as well as he squeezed Jaskier’s hip. 

The brunet rested his hands on Geralt’s shoulders, using him as leverage as he swung a leg over, straddling his hips, “Don’t tell me that was your first kiss?” His voice was soft and gentle, almost hopeful as he tucked a stray hair behind Geralt’s ear, now towering over him. 

“First good one.” Geralt answered, wrapping his hands around Jaskier’s waist and pressing his hands into the small of his back, “I don’t want you doing this out of pity, Jask. Do you really want me? Like that?”

Jaskier frowned, tracing the backs of his knuckles over his temple and down his jaw, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t." 

Geralt just stared up at him, this earnest, fearless, beautiful creature that had absolutely ensnared him in just over a day and, as much as he probably should be, he wasn’t scared at all. 

Jaskier bent down and placed a soft kiss on his nose, "You can tell me to stop whenever. I want you to feel good." 

Geralt nodded, pulling him closer for another kiss that had him sighing. 

Jaskier broke the kiss just enough to mutter his words between pecks "Careful… you might… wake… the others." 

Something dark and needy twisted deep in Geralt’s gut and he pressed a desperate kiss to Jaskier’s lips to stifle a moan. Jaskier shifted forward, both hands now holding Geralt’s face right where he wanted it, and the sensation of their hips moving against each other had Geralt breathless. He could feel his erection growing harder with every roll of their hips as his skirts began bunching up at the tops of his thighs. It was only made worse when he felt Jaskier’s erection pressing into his stomach.

Jaskier let his hands slide down the prince’s neck to rest on his chest as he pulled back, pressing their foreheads together as they panted, "Are you ready? Do you still want this?" 

"Oh gods, yes." 

Jaskier smiled, eyes still closed, and pressed a light kiss to Geralt’s lips before climbing off his lap and onto the ground between his legs, "If you’re uncomfortable at all-" 

"I got it. Please. Just- oooohhhh" 

Jaskier interrupted by palming him through the fabric pooled at his hips, "Ssshhhhh,” he looked up at Geralt smirking, “We aren’t even to the good part." 

Geralt bit his lip and leaned back, pressing his palms into the blankets and taking a deep breath. Jaskier tucked the edge of the chiton into Geralt’s belt and let out a long slow breath with his mouth frozen in a soft "oh”. Geralt was almost self-conscious, but the feeling of Jaskier’s breath on his sensitive skin was too heavenly to focus on anything else. Jaskier spat in his hand and gripped the base, gently stroking Geralt to start. 

A low hum clawed its way out of Geralt’s chest as Jaskier pumped and twisted his hand over his length. When Jaskier placed his other hand over his hip and licked up the underside of his cock his fingers clawed at the soft surface beneath them. He really didn’t see how this could get any better, then Jaskier took him in his mouth, just past the tip. 

“Oh fuck, ” he gasped, trying to keep his voice to a whisper, “Shit, you were right." 

Jaskier hummed, amused, as he bobbed his head lower and Geralt had to bite his knuckles to keep quiet. His hips twitched up, as much as he was trying to stay still, but Jaskier’s unoccupied hand held him in place with surprising strength. A whimper escaped him as Jaskier took him even farther and faster. His whole body felt weak and tense at the same time and it took everything in him not to shout and wake the whole island. He had no idea how much time had passed, it was all he could do to keep upright as the brunette hollowed his cheeks as he pulled all the way back. 

"Where do you want to cum?" 

Geralt was completely breathless and aching for just that last little bit of friction, "What?" 

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?” Jaskier asked, running his thumb over Geralt’s tip almost absentmindedly.

Geralt bit down on his lip so hard he nearly drew blood as he pushed every last bit of air from his lungs, “Fuck, can I?" 

Jaskier nodded, setting back to work, this time doing his best to watch Geralt’s face.

Geralt felt an almost unbearable tension threatening to pull his hips apart as he watched those blue eyes flicker between him and his crotch. He whined as Jaskier hummed again and cupped his balls, bobbing his head down as far as his throat would let him. 

He came hard, eyes rolling back in his head and teeth digging into the flesh of his cheek. He whispered a torrent of curses as he writhed against Jaskier’s palms keeping him in place. Jaskier sucked until there was nothing left, swallowing every drop. 

Before Geralt could even see straight again he heard the jingling of keys and angry hushed tones. 

"Oh shit.” Geralt fumbled with this clothes, accidentally smacking Jaskier in the forehead in the process of covering himself. 

“Ow!" 

"Oh gods, I’m sorry! Here.” Geralt took his hand and hauled him up onto the cot next to him just in time for the princess of Crete to come into view. 

She was beautiful up close, her curly brown hair seemed to float above her shoulders and the freckles dusting her cheeks gave her a youthful quality. She held her hands behind her back and scrutinized the two very flustered young men in front of her. 

Geralt was sure she was waiting for a bow, but, given that Jaskier was likely still fully erect and he was still trying not to tremble, he made no move. 

“You volunteered, yes?” She asked, staring at Geralt with an uncomfortably intense gaze. 

He nodded. 

“To kill the Minotaur?”

Another nod, Geralt’s mind was racing to catch up with the conversation.

Jaskier seemed even more lost than Geralt, “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?”

Geralt smacked his arm, but the princess just smiled, “Triss, Princess of Crete, and possibly your only hope.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, not at all trusting of this woman, “How’s that?”

She brought her hands forward to reveal she was holding a sturdy sword in one hand and a large golden ball of yarn in the other, “How do you expect to get out of the labyrinth alive?”

“What do you want?” Geralt stood and approached the bars, standing just out of reach of the blade in her hands, not for a second believing she didn’t know how to use it. 

“Marry me.”

Geralt balked, suddenly feeling far too exposed in the short chiton, “Excuse me?”

“Marry me. Eros has driven us together, hero. I cannot suffer in my father’s palace any longer and I could make you so happy. When our eyes met this morning I knew it was destined by the fates. We must be together.” The princess pressed up against the bars of the cell, holding out the sword hilt-first as she nearly whispered her plea, “Say you’ll marry me.” 

Geralt wasn’t aware he could blush all the way down his chest, but he certainly did regardless, “I don’t… I can take you with me when we leave-”

“I can run away on my own, Geralt,” She sighed, grinning at the surprise on his face, “What I want… is you.”

He weighed his options for a moment. He had placed all his hope into a small dagger in his belt, but a sword would be far more comfortable. He hadn’t figured a way out either, too focused on living long enough to deal with the problem… and other things. She knew his name though, and that usually didn’t bode well, though his reputation may have preceded him. Normally this would be a quick decision, but he could hear Jaskier suck in a breath and hold it. Trying not to think about Jaskier’s eyes burning a hole in his back, he nodded. 

“Say it.”

Through gritted teeth, staring at the floor, he gave her the answer she wanted, “Triss, Princess of Crete, I will marry you. Only if you give me the sword.”

She smiled, not a pretty, soft smile either, no. This was predatory. 

“The yarn is enchanted, it will never run out.” 

When Geralt reached out to take the items she dropped the yarn and gripped his wrist, “Tell me where should I wait for you?”

Geralt stifled an uncomfortable shiver as her cold hands made his skin crawl, “South docks.”

Triss smiled, cocking her head to the side, “A man of few words. I’ll see you again soon.” She released him and disappeared down the halls, slamming the prison doors after her. 

Geralt kicked the yarn under the cot, sliding the sword beneath it as well, not wanting to look at it. 

Jaskier laid back and rolled to his side, deadly quiet, barely even breathing. 

“Jask?”

He only got a hum in response.

Geralt lay next to him, tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder and whispering so even he could barely hear, “Our escape is from the north docks.”

“Oh?” Jaskier’s whole body seemed to relax.

“Mhm. Fuck her.” Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled him close to kiss at his neck, just behind his ear. 

“Careful,” Jaskier’s tone was teasing as he turned to face the prince, “You’re dangerously close to adultery.”

Geralt’s hand drifted down to Jaksier’s hip, slowly gathering the fabric there as he pressed a kiss to his lips, “Oh, my philos. Will you let me?”


End file.
